intro
I’m thinking about getting a vasectomy.
my reaction: The only way I get a vasectomy is if my brothers get one. They don’t know I’m making this proposal but I am. I want to make it a social outing. It would be our man spa day. Girls go out to get nails done. We would go out and get snipped. We’d go a snip trip. There are group personal training sessions. There is group therapy. Why not do group vasectomies? We’d all be hanging out like we were at the barbershop watching sports, ribbing each other, and talking current events all the while were getting snipped. It would be a joyous occasion.
run curt run
One day after work I was feeling particularly anxious so I decided to go for a run. Running is a great way to clean out the system. I’m usually mentally exhausted after work so it’s good to get a good blow out. I decided to run to the CBD shop that was a mile away. I ran straight to the CBD shop without stopping and immediately went in the store without waiting to catch my breath. I was caught off guard by the worker who was sitting right by the door. I was huffing and puffing as I entered. I told her “I just ran here” then asked “if she needed to see my ID?” She said, “no”. I made two statements that didn’t need to be said. I replied, “Oh I thought you asked me” still gassed from the run. I then asked her if she had any CBD gummies? She had a tin for $30. I declined and left. I ended up running all my stress away that I didn’t need CBD anymore. It defeated the whole purpose of going to the store. In conclusion, I ran to a store, didn’t buy anything, and confused the cashier.
stroller dump
Last week I was at the library and had to use the bathroom. There’s always something strange about using the library bathroom. This time was no different. As I entered the bathroom I saw a dad pushing his baby stroller in the bathroom stall. See told you. You could tell he was uncomfortable and ready to burst at the seams. I wanted to say something like, “hey you gotta do what you gotta do’ but I didn’t want to interfere. He was already full of shame and guilt. Desperate times cause for desperate measures. This guy had to go. All I can think of is that poor baby who had to witness that debauchery. You only use public restrooms if it’s going to be bad. Easy craps can wait. Bad craps need to be let out. I can’t imagine the sounds that came from that stall. I’m sure there were nuclear blasts and baby cries. I got out quick. I didn’t want to be part of that situation. That’s almost borderline child abuse. I had to book it.
clinically happy
I had my first physical at the Doctor’s office in over 20 years. I haven’t had a physical since the 90s. The doctor ended up taking my weight and apparently I’m overweight. I’m 5’11 and weigh 190 pounds. If I lose anymore weight I’ll look like Taylor Swift. I can’t afford to lose weight. He even checked my moles. He said “my moles were nice and round.’ I even did a depression worksheet test. According to the worksheet I’m not depressed. I only needed to get one more point to be clincially depressed. I passed guys! I’m clinically happy. I told him I wish there was more things wrong with me. Maybe when I go back to get a physical 20 years from now he’ll find something.
battle friend ship
I made the mistake of reading the Alumini newsletter that my old grade school emails me on a quarterly basis. They have a section in where alumni can submit what achievements they have made, wedding updates, and birth news. I’m amazed at all the alumni from my grade school who have achieved success. Former students have gone on to do great things such as working in the medical profession, entertainment, and education. One of my friends from grade school has went on to the Navy and is a commander of a naval ship. It makes sense because he always played the game Battleship. I never thought he would be in charge of one. I played a lot of LIFE growing up but I’m not out here killing it.
soft in the paint
I was at the gym the other day and noticed a lot of strong guys with tattoos. I don’t know if I can do tattoos. I mean I could look bad @ss but I wouldn’t be able to back that up. I would look like a poser. I could have cool tattoos that make me look intimidating like an assault rife, a roaring lion, or a picture of a devil on my bicep but that’s not me. I can’t look hard. Being hard is an attitude. I don’t have that in me. I’m soft on the inside. I could pull off tattoos that are of butterflies, rainbows, and cartoon characters like sponge bob squarepants. You wouldn’t be intimated, scared, or fearful of me. You’d feel welcomed, invited, and safe around me.
doogie howser moment
This week I realized I’m soft. I mean I’ve always known that I was soft. I’m not hard. I know I’m not a bad a$s. I take jogs to get CBD. I’m scared of getting a vasectomy. I won’t ever get a tattoo and if I do it will be of a worm. All I’m saying is I’m not a bad a$$ dad who would take his baby into a bathroom stall. I’m okay with being soft. I’m clinically soft.